


The Late Bloomer

by TheAfterglow



Series: Unspoken [2]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Ben is still not a Boy Scout, Coming of Age, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, F/M, Family Drama, Kind of a hate fuck, Porn With Plot, Quickies, Secret Relationship, home for the holidays, shady!Reylo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-10
Updated: 2017-04-10
Packaged: 2018-10-17 03:23:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10585401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheAfterglow/pseuds/TheAfterglow
Summary: She had yet to grow into her gangly limbs, and her figure remained stubbornly boyish as her classmates began flaunting shirts that showed off  the straps of their real bras.“Don’t worry about it,” Jessika said (...) “You’re just a late bloomer.”She hadn’t seen him since September. Why she hadn’t expected to see him today, she couldn’t fathom now. It was his father’s house, and it was a holiday.Of course he’d be here.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This is a continuation of the storyline from [Bad Babysitter](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9991964).

She had been hanging around his dad’s place for a half a year already when he came home for the summer, supplanting her station in the garage at the counter. She was relegated to sweeping up the shop while he took calls in the tiny, cramped office on the puke-green rotary dial phone Han insisted on keeping around. 

“Nothing to break,” Han beamed like he had discovered a universal truth. “Simple technology never goes out of style.”

She smiled shyly at Ben, who merely glowered behind his father’s back. 

It had taken months for Han to grudgingly admit she had a knack for mechanical things. He was equal parts gruff and instructive, and she had to pick her opportunities to ask him for help carefully. She had become adept at reading his body language, never approaching him when his stained mug of coffee was less than half-full, never when he had just hung up the phone after talking to his ex-wife, and never, ever before 9:30AM. 

Han was like a mechanical thing, she decided. Once she knew the rules, it seemed easy.

She couldn’t discern any such logic to his son. She was fourteen and he was a grown-up of sorts, living away from home and already done with a year of college.

Ben hunched over his textbook between calls, a permanent scowl wrinkling his brow as he poured over dense paragraphs with few illustrations. He didn’t look away as he answered the phone, his thick fingers wrapping around the ancient plastic with a delicacy that belied his size.

He was a giant compared to her: taller than his father, and huskier than either of his parents by a measure. She had yet to grow into her gangly limbs, and her figure remained stubbornly boyish as her classmates began flaunting shirts that showed off  the straps of their real bras.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jessika said, turning once more on her chaise to keep her tan even. Jessika was shorter than Rey, but her figure had grown steadily curvier over the last school year. “You’re just a late bloomer.”

Rey crossed one bony ankle over the other, lifting her hand to shield her eyes from the sun as she peered at her friend. Jessika’s eyes were closed serenely behind her heart-shaped red sunglasses, and a sheen of sweat had appeared on her stomach. It was terribly hot in the sun, but neither of them felt ambitious enough to get a soda in the small refrigerator in the garage. Jessika’s parents kept it stocked, and left the girls to their own devices. 

She closed her own eyes against the beating sun, and tried to forget how flustered she’d felt when he’d angrily slung the crescent wrench back at the toolbox and stalked from the garage when she’d offered her advice about an engine he’d been stooped over. She stared at the broad wedge of his back until he disappeared around the corner before retrieving the tool and placing it back in the box. 

It was still warm from his hand.

“Don't mind him,” Han had offered one morning as they filed parts torn from a vehicle salvaged from a nearby junkyard. “Girl stuff.”

“Girl stuff?” Rey repeated, feeling obtuse that she didn’t even know Ben had a girlfriend.

“Yeah,” Han shrugged. “There was a girl, and now there isn’t.” 

Rey had nodded like she understood, but she squinted at the gasket she was holding to disguise how she felt, knowing this. 

* * *

 

The pie she held warmed her palms in the chilly air as she pressed the doorbell with her elbow. The top wasn’t exactly smooth, but she glowed with pride when she looked at her handiwork. She could faintly smell the cinnamon and nutmeg she’d blended into the gloopy paste of flour, canned pumpkin, and sugar. It didn’t look good, but it tasted--

“Rey!” Melissa was breathless as she flung open the door. “Come in, that looks delicious! Did you make that?”

“Hi,” Rey’s breath was a small, visible puff. The frost had nearly receded from the grass in the sunny spots, but there was still a distinct bite in the air. A strong wave of turkey smell emanated from the house, along with sage and cooked onion. Melissa was wearing black yoga pants dotted with flour and an apron that said,  _ Kiss the chef _ . 

“Oooh, brr!” Melissa fake-shivered, beckoning Rey with her oven mitt-clad hand. “It’s freezing, did your uncle let you walk over?”

“It’s a short walk,” Rey offered, shrugging her shoulders from her coat with Melissa’s help. “Am I too early?”

“You’re right on time,” Han called from the living room. She could hear the television and the sound of the twins playing spaceships on the carpet. They were obsessed with space at the moment, showing her every new toy ship to enter their collection when she sat for them. 

Han rounded the corner and his eyes widened at the pie. “No such thing as too early on Thanksgiving, sweetheart. Game’s on.”

“Debatable!” Ben’s disembodied voice echoed down the stairs, then the bathroom door slammed unceremoniously.

Rey stiffened at the sound and Han looked at Melissa for a guarded second before his usual grin cut the tension. “Ben’s home,” he said unnecessarily. 

Melissa glanced up the stairs and shook her head slightly, then brightened as though it took considerable effort. “Let’s put your pie in the kitchen.”

Rey smiled, but her stomach began to turn itself into a knot. She hadn’t seen him since September. Why she hadn’t expected to see him today, she couldn’t fathom now. It was his father’s house, and it was a holiday. 

Of course he’d be here. 

They hadn’t talked much that night, and not at all since. Sometimes she wondered if she had dreamed it.

The only thing that kept it tethered to reality was Jessika’s repeated mentions of it. Her friend was genuinely curious, and Rey did her best to share without making her feel like she needed to catch up, or like she was betraying his confidence. Why that mattered to her, she couldn’t say. For all she knew, he'd told everyone he knew about it. 

The girls had done everything together for the last five years, but now Rey felt like she had jumped ahead in a way that couldn’t be shared. Over the summer, Jessika had driven them in her rusty burgundy Honda Civic to the clinic, and they’d held each other's hands through getting their implants.

“Just to be safe,” they'd promised each other, not thinking it would be a specific concern yet. Maybe next year, when they were in college. 

“Who started it?” Jessika asked as she hugged her pillow to her chest. “I’ll be honest, he kind of scares me.” She sat cross-legged on her bed, her math book spread open between them.

Rey considered for a long time, doodling in the edge of her Calculus notebook before answering. She didn’t look up when she answered, “We both did.”

Jessika’s eyes glittered when she replied, “And did it… hurt?”

Rey reinforced a line in her sketch several times, thinking how to characterize their encounter. 

“No,” she hesitated. “I mean… he wasn’t gentle, but it still felt good.”

“Oh,” Jessika said, her voice barely audible. “I see.”

Rey could tell Jessika wasn’t convinced of her answer. 

She wasn’t sure she was, either. It had happened so fast, and was nothing like what she’d expected from the pamphlets they’d collected at the clinic and studied in detail in the public library when they were meant to be studying. The literature the doctor had pressed into their hands emphasized mutuality, consent, communication between partners. Having sex with Ben--God, even thinking the words made her feel weird-- hadn’t really had any of those features. It had left her feeling triumphant at first, but once that initial glow had worn off, it was replaced by a rotating mix of confusion, vague guilt, and a lingering dissatisfaction. 

Still, she caught herself daydreaming in class, shifting uncomfortably on the hard plastic chair as the heat blossomed anew between her legs when she recalled the creeping tension that lead to her being half-naked in his bed. It had been there for years. 

Neither of them had acknowledged it.

Honestly, she had always felt as though he tolerated her at best, and perhaps downright hated her at worst. There was no specific incident she could recall to explain why things were this way, it just… was.

Rey curled into the bend of the couch now, staring blankly at the football game playing. In all these years, she’d never really caught onto the strategy of American football, but pretended to enjoy it because she could tell it was something that men liked, and like enjoying together. She always preferred their company to that of her own gender, save for Jessika. As their classmates had begun appearing at school with kohl-rimmed eyes and increasingly-lower necklines, the two of them had remained plain Janes. They had felt silly putting on makeup stolen from Jessika’s mother’s vanity, and neither of them could see the point of high heels.

Her heart thudded against her ribs as she heard his heavy footsteps descend the carpeted stairs. He poked his head into the living room, surveying the scene briefly before nodding to her in greeting.

“Hi,” Rey mouthed the word more than anything. She cleared her throat and said, “Happy Thanksgiving.”

He stared at her, scowling slightly, before nodding again and disappearing around the corner. There was murmuring from the kitchen and a cupboard door thumped loudly.

She pressed her lips together and circled her arms around her shins.

“Cooking turkey’s easy,” Han rejoined her on the couch and gestured towards the television with his can of beer. “One beer while you get it ready, three while it cooks, one more while it cools, and you’re good to go!”

“And one wife to make sure it doesn’t burn while you’re sleeping off the beer!” Melissa called from the kitchen.

Han rolled his eyes but winked at Rey. “She’s probably right.”

Rey smiled as much as she could when Ben reappeared and took up residence on the other end of the couch with his father safely between them. His hair was wet from the shower and he frowned at his mug of coffee.

“Time’d you get in last night, anyway?” Han’s gaze never left the game. Rey wasn’t sure which of them he was talking to, but Ben finally replied first.

“One.”

Han whistled a low note. “Burning the midnight oil, huh? They actually keep you busy up in the ivory tower?”

The ensuing silence was punctuated by an official’s whistle on the TV. Play stopped for what seemed like the hundredth time since they’d sat down fifteen minutes earlier.

Han coughed gently before he tried again. “Did Rey tell you her news?”

Rey’s heart sank further, knowing what Han meant to share. He turned to her expectantly and raised his eyebrow.

Ben leaned forward to look around at her around his father. “Uh, no, I don’t think so.”

“Oh,” Rey smoothed her hands up and down her legs in their tights. “It’s nothing. I just got accepted at state. Early decision.”

Han grinned broadly. “I told you! She wouldn’t believe me.”

Ben eased his coffee mug onto the coffee table crowded with dog-eared car magazines and thumbed his glasses up his nose before he replied, “Congratulations, Rey.”

“Thanks.” She made an effort to look him in the eye as she said it, and her stomach flip-flopped to see how intently he was staring at her.

Ben relaxed once more and braced one bare foot against the table.

“I was telling Rey,” Han went on, staring at the TV again, “She could stay with you when she comes up to check it out in a few months. You could show her around.”

Oh, God. Rey wished the couch would simply swallow her up. She and Jessika had talked about going upstate together.

“Yeah, I mean… if I’m in town,” Ben hedged. “Our annual conference is coming up.”

“It’s fine,” Rey tried to sound dismissive, “I’ve got a friend I can go with--”

“C’mon, Ben,” Han interrupted her with a scoff. “You can plan around your thing. It’s not like you don’t have time to show someone who’s basically your sibling around.”

Rey drew a deep breath and held it, counting to ten silently. She could practically feel Ben’s simmering anger from the other side of the couch.

“Are there any real sports on?” Ben changed the subject abruptly. “Ones where the players don’t need to take a break after 17 seconds of play?”

“Rey likes football,” Han sounded hurt. “What, are you too good to watch a little pigskin with your old man now?”

“ _ Fuck _ , Dad, cut it out!” Ben swore under his breath, but the twins still froze and looked at him, then at Han expectantly.

Just then, Melissa peeked her head around the corner, oblivious to the tension that Rey could feel humming between them.

“Can one of you bring some wine up from the basement? We need to put the whites in the fridge to chill before everyone else gets here.”

“I’ll go,” Rey and Ben spoke in unison, then glared at each other.

“Perfect,” Melissa said. “You can get it all in one trip if you go together.”

Neither of them moved for several seconds, then Rey unfolded her legs and stood reluctantly, tugging her skirt down.

She followed Ben down the basement stairs, gently closing the door at the top behind her. He yanked the beaded cord on the light and left it swaying behind him. She reached overhead on her tiptoes and stilled the bulb with a quick touch of her fingers, pausing while her eyes adjusted to the dim light of the basement. She had rarely been down here, but she knew the wine cabinet was behind the small bar.

A closet with the laundry equipment stood under the stairs, and a workroom next to contained all manners of ski equipment. A pair of well-used Rossignol skis leaned in the corner near the waxing table. The whole space smelled faintly of powdered laundry detergent and moth balls, mixed with old beer and whiskey.

Ben stalked through the room and knelt behind the bar, disappearing from view. She trailed slowly behind, rounding the end and leaning back against the wall for support. She didn’t want to crowd him in the small space.

He didn’t look up from his task, and the knot in Rey’s middle coiled even tighter. She had never been more sure that he hated her than right now.

She could feel the slippery heat beginning to build between her legs and she closed her eyes against her traitorous body. Really, now?  

“It must be hard at the holidays, having to split your time between them,” she offered.

Ben shrugged, barely acknowledging her presence. He hunched in front of the cabinet, pulling out several bottles and inspecting them before slotting them gently back into their cubbies.

“It is what it is.”

“Are you going to your mom’s later?” she tried instead. His back was still to her, and his jeans were riding low enough that she could see the waistband of his underwear across his back.

“We’ll see,” Ben said curtly. He placed one bottle of white wine up on the bar and continued fishing for another. “Don’t feel like you have to stay with me if you come visit campus,” he continued. “But I have room if you want.”

“I do… want to,” the words came out haltingly, and she flushed when his hand stilled and he glanced over his shoulder at her. His eyes looked practically black in the low light of the basement.

He pivoted on the balls of his feet before standing and shoved his hands in his back pockets. She pressed her palms against the cool, smooth wall behind her back as he took three slow, long steps towards her. He stopped just short of arm’s length from her. He was close enough now that she could smell shaving cream and coffee on him.

“I told myself,” Ben shook his head slightly, “That we couldn’t do this again.”

“I know,” Rey breathed. She could see the outline of his hard-on pressing near his zipper. Her breath caught and she pushed away from the wall, closing the gap further. “So did I.”

She didn’t feel like she should turn her back on him, so she side-stepped out from behind the bar and walked slowly backwards, leading him towards the laundry closet. He wore the same wolfish expression as he had that night in his bedroom. Her bare feet were cold in her tights on the tiled floor.

He didn’t bother with the light in the closet, instead closing the metal door halfway behind them before he crushed her against the washing machine. Rey arched against him and whimpered as he cupped her behind, squeezing the lobes of her ass through her tights and underwear, hard enough to smart a little.

She closed her eyes and her breathing stuttered. It felt good, too good. She squirmed and pushed her hands against his chest, feeling like she was supposed to resist him a bit.

Wasn’t she? It wasn’t right, what they were doing. His family were upstairs. They could come down at any moment.

“Put your arms around my neck,” he whispered against her ear. She did as she was told, and his clever fingers worked her undergarments down her legs once more. “You have to be quiet.”

Before she could even register the shock of the cold metal against her rear, he hoisted her up onto the machine with an arm around her waist and she felt the soft head of his cock against her inner thigh. She wound her fingers into his hair at the base of his skull, wondering how he had managed to unzip his pants so quickly. She glanced down quickly but closed her eyes, not wanting to see what was about to happen.

“ _ Fuck _ , you’re soaking,” his breath was hot against her neck when she turned her head to the side. His manhood was sliding between her legs, and she gasped to feel him slip inside her.

Rey kept her eyes closed and bit her lips to keep from making a sound. The smell of laundry soap mingled with the minty scent of his toothpaste, and she hooked her legs behind his back. Her weight caused the lid of the washer to squeak, a slight, uneven  metallic sound broken only by the sound of their breathing in the small space. She could hear footsteps upstairs, the front door opening and more people entering the house.

She opened her eyes and glanced furtively at him. His eyes were closed and he grimaced as though in pain even as he rocked against her, his fingers of his free hand splayed against the top of the washer to steady himself. 

She was close, so close already, and she reached between them to press her fingers to her secret spot. It felt like a betrayal to do it when he was right there, but she was greedy with the need that had been lurking since she’d laid eyes on him this morning. Her lower stomach tightened dangerously, and he growled in her ear when he felt her hand against him.

“That’s right, baby girl, come for me,” he muttered, “You know you want it, you’ve always wanted this.”

“Oh, yes,” she whispered, her climax sweeping away any dignity she had left. “So do you, you’ve wanted this for years!”

She felt his teeth against her shoulder through her sweater and his breathing stuttered as his hips stilled against her with one final thrust that she could feel in her stomach. They stayed frozen against each other for a long minute before he pulled away from her and handed her a paper towel.

She eased off the washer with trembling legs and mopped at herself. Ben turned away and she heard him zip his jeans before he turned back to her.

“Here.” Her stockings and panties were wadded in his hand.

“Thanks,” she said, her voice hoarse. She accepted them delicately and turned away to finish cleaning herself.

Just then the basement door opened and they both froze.

“You two okay down there?” Han’s voice cut the silence. “You need a map to the wine cabinet?”

Disembodied laughter followed him, and they heard him laugh right along with the other guests.

Ben wrenched open the closet door. “We’ll be right up!”

“Shit,” Rey giggled a little from nerves. “I thought we were pretty fast…?”

Ben shook his head. “Jesus Christ, that was too close.”

She eyed him carefully as she shimmied back into her stockings, taking care to keep her skirt from getting tucked into the back. “Do I look okay?”

Ben bit his lower lip and she could see he was trying not to grin. It struck her then how much like Han he looked.

“You look better than okay to me, kid. Let’s go upstairs already.”

Rey cradled her bottles of wine and tried not to smile as she mounted the stairs behind him.

**Author's Note:**

> YOU DID THIS. You asked for MOAR SHADY REYLO, and of course I was happy to oblige. 
> 
> Because of course. :)
> 
> Come at me! Comments are life.


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